Category: department of random

For a couple of years I was working “J-O-B-S” to pay the bills and give me some emotional energy for writing.

At the end of Summer 2018 I returned to my (emotionally demanding + weird hours required) profession.

Consequently, writing (incl. blogging) has sloooooowed down.

But it hasn’t stopped. (Go me!)

Right now I’m working on:

The Blood Rain sequel, Blood Down the Bones

A YA novella called Gaia Shrugged

A second volume of short stories in the Fables series

In other news, my publisher, Filidh Publishing, advises that Blood Rain is no longer available on Amazon. Apparently this is because of recent US legislation that has had a chilling effect on what kind of books Internet bookstores feel comfortable offering. It’s easier for them to simply not carry certain titles than it is to fight the power.

Apparently the child trafficking theme in Blood Rain is a no-no. For the record, I’m against child trafficking. That should be pretty obvious to anyone who actually reads the book. That said, keyword searches for (what some think of as) objectionable content are not context-sensitive, so it would seem the fact that child trafficking is a theme is a problem, regardless of the frame placed on it by yours truly.

ABOUT THE FEATURED IMAGE: to my knowledge, the featured image is an archival photo of no recorded authorship, nor is it under any copyright. If you know something I don’t, tell me and I’ll take it down, cite the photographer, or whatever else is needed.

Last time, I wrote about how urban legends about the Ouija board surged in the 1970s and early 1980s due to the influence of the film The Exorcist on popular culture.

So what’s up with Ouija right now?

In 2014, filmmaker Stiles White directed and co-wrote a low-budget horror movie called Ouija. The film cost a mere five million dollars to make, but earned over nineteen million in its first weekend alone in North American markets. While panned by critics, the film’s financial success peaked the interest of various deep-pocket movie studios.

Hasbro is the current owner of the Ouija board. It’s marketed as a mystical experience for all ages.

It wasn’t just Hollywood who was interested in investing in more Ouija films, either. Toy manufacturer Hasbro–the same company that produces and sells the licensed Ouija boards– reportedly put up a significant amount of funding for the prequel to Ouija, a film called Ouija: Origin of Evil, released in 2016.

This 2016 prequel is entertaining. If you watch just one contemporary Oiuja movie, I recommend this one.

* Exactly what the relationship is can be left up to the social scientists. Leave me out of it, but remind to set up a Google alert so than when that literature is robust I remember to go have a look it.

** As you know from reading the other posts on Ouija, this assertion is not remotely true (which is hardly surprising).

In my last post, I wrote about how homemade “spirit boards” or “talking boards” used by mediums in the nineteenth century Spiritualism movement had evolved into mass-produced board games marketed as wholesome family fun.

In this post, I’m going to unpack Ouija’s second transformation. How did Ouija boards evolve from pleasant parlour past-time to perilous portal to perdition?

The movie is based on William Peter Blatty’s 1971 novel The Exorcist. The book was a bestseller at the time of its original release. Since then, the novel has enjoyed a signed limited-edition “luxury” re-release in 2010, and a 40th anniversary re-edit and re-release in 2011 that included new scenes written by Blatty.

However enduring the appeal of the novel, it was the film of The Exorcist (scripted by Blatty himself) that gave the by-now-forgotten Ouija board game a new lease on its (after)life. Unlike the book, the film contains a scene in which Regan shows her mother how she’s been playing with a Ouija board.

It’s also the top grossing R-rated film of all time (adjusted for inflation). So suffice it to say nearly everyone who wanted to see the film back then, saw the film. Re-releases, rep theaters, videotapes, DVDs, and streaming services have continued to popularize the film.

Based on this, it’s not a stretch to suggest that the film spawned a thousand urban legends. That includes some of the ones that I heard as a girl in the 1970’s, such as “never play Ouija alone” and “Demons will enter your soul if you play with Ouija boards.”

When I was a kid in the 1970’s, I lived in British Columbia’s Bible belt. Maybe not the buckle of the Bible belt (I’m looking at you, Abbotsford, BC) but at least buckle-adjacent.

That combination of time and place meant that Ouija boards (also known as spirit boards or talking boards) were widely considered a Satanic instrument that could open the door to demonic possession and poltergeist activity. Even now, decades later, I have a beloved friend who insists that these boards are a doorway to ancient supernatural evil.

Given that this year is the 125th anniversary of the Ouija board, a recitation of facts is in order (sources are at the end of this post).

During the nineteenth century, the Spiritualism movement enjoyed public interest and popularity (more on that in a future post). In 1886, national newspapers started carrying stories about “talking boards” or “spirit boards” that mediums were using in their seances so that the spirits of the dead might tell all. These homemade boards and planchettes were more-or-less similar to that of the modern Ouija board.

A homemade wooden spirit board

In the 1890s, Charles Kennard, of the Kennard Novelty Company, produced a commercial version for family entertainment. There are a number of legends about the commercial origins of the board, among them that Kennard and his pals asked the board itself what it should be called. Apparently the planchette spelled out O U I J A and then G O O D L U C K.

The patented and trademarked Ouija board

Kennard patented the Ouija board (that’s another blog post also). It was a commercial success. It was so popular and so accepted that Norman Rockwell painted a picture of a couple using the board. It was a cover for the Saturday Evening Post. It don’t get more mainstreamed and uncontroversial that that, amirite?

Cover Image from the May 1 1920 edition of The Saturday Evening Post

So how did the Ouija board transform from a mainstream parlour game to a scary hell-mouth portal?

All will be revealed next week, in part two. In the meantime, G O O D L U C K.

Thinking of family always makes me sad. I won’t ever have the relationship or the comfort or the support that some other people get from their families. Even though there is nothing to “fix”, I will always grieve for that.